Halo: The Mantle of Responsibility
by A-01
Summary: Fate is strange, and as luck would have it, Johns' fate has once more been set onto a new path. He was once just a Spartan, but now a Commander, a legend, someone who has taken the long path to ensure a bright future.
1. Chapter 1

**Good morning, Good day, salutations and such to any who read this. I've been super curious to try a Halo Fanfic for a long time now, but generally I am so satisfied with the way the story within the books, games, comics and other adaptations progresses that I feel zero need to flesh out ideas to enjoy them.**

 **So I came up with an almost totally different idea and a new manner to flesh it out. Kind of a like an alternative history version of it.**

 **I have to add –in the event of any readers really liking this story and wanting more- that there is a chance that I won't feel amazingly motivated to put much time to further chapters between the unending operating hours of owning my own business.**

 **But that is not saying that I will not try.**

 **If you read this story, I humbly ask that you please review in the most constructive manner possible? It is a huge motivation to me as a writer, and some readers check reviews before actually reading a story to see if it would suit them.**

 **Onto a grammatical note; I only gave this a quick once over, so there will likely be some errors here and there. Also, if you do enjoy, in a review tell me which characters you would like to see given some spotlight?**

 **Who else is pumped for Halo 5!?**

 **Anyway! I sincerely hope that you enjoy reading ^_^**

 **UNSC Calendar July 24 2557**

The time was upon him.

To awaken.

To reveal to the galaxy what was Humanities intended place.

The millennia-old Spartan sighed as a wave of warmth spread through him as machines he'd always had trouble trusting did their tasks perfectly in restoring him back to full health. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of his reflection of a metallic surface that whizzed by him to retrieve his armour. There had once been wrinkles in his pale skin, but now it was smooth, and age was not a concern. His eyes still blazed as bright as ever, and he looked at the machines that were reseeding from his body.

He now imagined that this was the very same process that the Ur-Didact had gone through when he had accidentally awakened him all of those thousands of years in his past ago. And now, in a straight line through time, he was going through the very same process only days after the Didact had.

A booming voice berated his ears for a moment before his auditory senses adjusted to once more being active and the sound seemed to smooth out to a normal level. "Commander, I have initialized slip-space sequences. I am ready to move us to Earth." The level voice immediately brought a chilly gust of memories to the forefront of Johns mind.

It was the voice belonging to a now long dead Forerunner formerly named His Greatest Efforts To Protect. He had stood firmly by Johns side for years as they struggled to prepare for the time in the distant future. John would eternally be grateful to the Librarian for supplying the Forerunner warrior to his cause.

"Take us to Earth."

XX

" _Chief! Chief wake up! John!"_

There was that voice, her voice, echoing through his helmet once again. It was telling him that he was alive, Cortana was telling him to get up and survive, to fight.

Fight? Fight who? Or what?

His eyes remained closed inside his battered helmet, and with an unfortunate sense of understanding and peace John identified that Cortana's voice wasn't echoing inside his helmet, but inside his head. She was gone, dead, or the equivalent of dead for an AI.

She was dead because of him, or for him. But she had proved her point in her death. She had asked him to work out which one of them was the machine, and that hadn't been a question of logic. She was, in fact, the more mechanical of the two, but her spirit was the less mechanical, she had wanted to remind him that he was alive, that he could feel.

And she had done that. Though he very much doubted that had been her overall intention with her last actions aboard Ur-Didacts vessel during its composer harvest. In a manner, she had proved herself both right and wrong. She had given her life, out of care, affection, perhaps even love, if her pain toward Johns anguishing life was anything to go by, in order to save his own life.

A true machine would end its existence in a moment to save its creator or master without any expression of emotion or pain, whether it was a complex AI or something more simplistic. She had in the end proven that she was in many ways, just as alive as John was.

' _What happened for me to be here? Where is here?_

Johns saddened mental monologue asked, and he knew that he should open his eyes, look around, determine how to live and fight another day. The irony of the thought made him suppress a cough of laughter. The last time he'd heard that line had been when the former Captain of the UNSC Infinity had said them to him so condescendingly.

' _Who was he to question me and my words?'_ John asked himself mentally again as an unhappy smirk crossed his lips. The thought lit a becoming reoccurring thought into Johns mind again. He had been changing since arriving on Requiem. Of course, the immediate ending of the Human-Covenant war had lifted an incredible burden off his shoulders. He was questioning the world from that, but then the instant recognition upon waking that Cortana was fighting off rampancy.

He always knew that he had become dependent on the Human-like AI, but it was her looming demise that made him realise the true depth of that dependency. Events had quickly escalated, and it was the revelation of many truths that impacted him leading up to his encounter with the Librarian.

She had said that she was accelerating his evolution, and unlocking a gene song in him. The message was clear enough; he was being evolved beyond the other members of his species. His thoughts on how he came to be in his current situation shifted focus for a moment as his comm. Fizzed as it attempted to rely some kind of communications.

Yet still the Spartans eyes remained closed. Whoever found him would find him whether his eyes were open or not, his awareness was not necessary for him to understand his current predicament; or so he was assuming. The most recent events that had led John to be floating aimlessly in debris-strewn space were what had shaken him the most since all of the changes had begun.

The Didact, or the Ur-Didact, more specifically according to Cortana, had been the single greatest presence he had ever faced. No. John corrected himself after a moment, the Gravemind had been, but the Ur-Didact was still an incredibly imposing figure. Cortana hadn't explained much of the information she'd absorbed from the various Forerunner terminals that she had interfaced with, but John wasn't stupid. He put the basic details together and filled in the gaps with the mysteriously powerful technology of the Forerunners.

There had once been two Didacts; the same yet different. The one whom he had faced was the original, and the second had once been a copy of some sort to assist in the war against the Flood. The details didn't matter to him, at least not at this point. What had mattered had been the Ur-Didacts disdain towards Humanity, and his goal to eradicate Johns own kind.

The final confrontation hadn't gone how either John or Cortana had hoped, but it never did. John didn't have a clear recollection of the events that lead to him floating in space, just flickers of light as though from some quickly taken photos.

His hand had descended onto the armed warhead right after he had managed to knock the Ur-Didact off the hard-light bridge and into the swirling red vortex below, and then he had fallen through the hard-light right after his hand had touched the device.

The image of a hard light Cortana standing above him over the warhead and smiling down at him spelled what had happened. She had saved him, changed the density of the hard-light bridge so that he'd slip through it in the millisecond between him keying it and it exploding.

In that millisecond, he had seen her smile at him, and mouth "welcome home," and then the greatest blast he'd ever been exposed to. Of course, he wasn't entirely exposed. Cortana had obviously taken his organic, if hardy, form into account, and had figured that A: the hard light bridge would hold out just long enough to shield him from the worst of the blast, and B: the red vortex below was likely a form of slip-space portal, and could lead him to safety.

At that thought, Johns' eyes did fly open with a spark of concern. The moment that he'd seen the red vortex beneath the composer he had suspected that it may be a stabilised slip-space portal, and then when the composer had activated he had become sure that it must be; which meant that there was a very likely chance that the Didact was still alive somewhere.

Then his memory caught up with him; he had fallen into the vortex mere moments before the ship had disintegrated. Carefully, as to not disorientate himself, he turned his head around to take in his surroundings.

True to his first guess, he was floating in space amongst a lot of debris from the Ur-Didacts ship, which must have fallen through the portal with him just before it collapsed. But then his vision reached beyond the debris field around him, to a planet that looked familiar and yet very different.

Earth, but not his Earth. A part of Johns' minds instantly reached a conclusion of having travelled in time somehow, but the most disciplined part remained calm to gather more information before drawing any conclusion. Whilst the planet below him did look in many ways just like the Earth he had seen merely an hour earlier, this one had odd grids of infrastructure visible from orbit, and in orbit were hundreds of platforms, stations, and what looked to be massive ships that would put the Infinity to shame.

Several ships, John noted, were moving in his direction. Again, he remained calm, and again his comm. Buzzed to pick up communications, presumably from the approaching ships. Once again he drew a conclusion that it was not Earth from the time he knew since despite his absence he could not possibly imagine the Human design and orbital infrastructure advancing so much in his time.

Again his comm. Buzzed; Cortana would have normally been the one to un-jumble any signals that weren't on standard UNSC channels, so this attempt at communications was going to be entirely up to the ships approaching him. That matter in itself was a bold hint that this truly was not his time.

"Identify yourself!"

John jolted slightly in the zero gravity at the sudden command. A part of him recognized that this wasn't English, nor any language that he was familiar with, and yet he was, as though it had been knowledge sleeping in his DNA.

"UNSC Master Chief petty officer, Spartan 117." He replied back into his comm. Out of military habit. A moment later realizing, that he too had replied in the same new but familiar feeling language.

"Prepare to be seized for invading our space." The terse-sounding voice dictated to John.

John didn't reply, nor did he move. He was confused and lost. A genetic memory seemed to be slowly awakening in him, the language he was speaking and hearing was the language that had once been shared by all Humans in the time before their defeat by the Forerunners.

He had always had a mind for new knowledge, and every terminal he'd come across within Requiems expanse he'd committed to memory. Humanity had once been a great power, a power that put the UNSC he knew to shame.

As such, he was trying to view his situation from the person behind the voice's perspective. Someone, or something new, had arrived in their system. Obviously wearing armour that they were not familiar with, within a debris field of what they would likely be able to identify as Forerunner.

Would that mean that in this time frame Humanity was already at war with the Forerunners? Or were they simply being wary of something new? Whatever the case, John knew that he was high and dry in wherever or whenever he was, so he resigned himself to whatever was going to happen.

Though his eyes did remain keen to the approaching ships and marvelled out the unique curved designs, and obvious armaments covering them. They were not quite the same but carried major similarities to some of the recorded images that he'd seen in Requiems terminals.

Soon enough a soft blue light surrounded him, and he was pulled smoothly and rapidly from amongst the debris toward the underside of the largest ship amidst the small battle group that had come to investigate. At closer inspection, John noted that it was a similar mass to that of the Infinity.

But with a sharpness of his military discipline he zoned out all of the unimportant details and kept his eyes focused on the port that had twisted open ahead of him. In mere moments he was kneeling on a flooring with a dark silver sheen, with a familiar sense of artificial gravity pushing him down.

John tilted his helmeted head upward, and noted, as he had expected, that he was surrounded by at least twenty fully armoured soldiers. His immediate attempt to gauge their species was thwarted by their armour and helmets, despite them all being a distinctly human shape and build; but so were the Forerunners.

They were in a semi-circle around him, positioned at a distance that would allow for them to fire their stocky and orange glowing weapons before John would be able to move more than a meter. There was total silence and stillness in the docking bay, and John barely put enough attention on anything besides the soldiers to note that there was a myriad of pelican-sized craft lined up facing closed metallic portals, similar to the small one that he was kneeling on. Clearly it was some form of maintenance access portal.

A door not far from where the group was densely arranged slid open noiselessly, and silhouetted a new figured against a white background for a moment before the figure stepped forward and the door closed. The group of soldiers immediately tensed up and edged their ranks just a little bit closer to John and made room for the new figure to step ahead of them.

This one, John noted, was not entirely adorned in armour, and his head was uncovered. His armour itself was likewise different. Not as heavy, thick, or generally dangerous looking. More akin to a powered life-support suit than anything. It added credence to the thought that he was likely a commander of some kind who had descended from the bridge to address this matter directly.

But what was most attention-grabbing –and speculatively confirming- about the man, was the clearly revealed face to show that he was a Human man. His skin was a warm brown, a softer tone than people of African descent, but his facial features looked more European in shape and proportion. He had thick looking almost black-brown hair that was tied behind his head and hung neatly down his back.

Next John immediately noted that this man, like himself, was studying the new arrival with interest. There was something about this person that nagged at the Spartans memory, and he felt like he could place his face from somewhere.

"Do you understand me?" Came the question in a slow and authority-laden tone.

 _Yes._ John thought but wasn't one hundred percent on how to proceed. But a lifetime of military habit dictated his resolution of the issue, and he straightened his posture and fixed his entire physical attention onto the speaker.

"I understand you." The alien –yet natural- words came to John's tongue easily, and like he had for his entire life, he trusted his instincts to bring him through.

The man nodded in satisfaction. "Are you Human-" he paused and scanned up Johns armour and uncertainly added, "-or Forerunner?"

"Human," John replied instantly. But a moment later added on, "But different from you."

That much was visually evident from the most basic of inspections. While all of the armoured soldiers, and the commander himself were all seemingly on average taller than most of the Humans whom John was familiar with, they were still far below his own height and mass.

Amongst his own native branch of Humanity, John had stood head and shoulders over everyone besides his Spartans, but amongst these new forms of Human he was only a head above.

The commanding figure nodded his head and did another once over, albeit a much slower and more analytical one. "I can see that… Where do you come from and how did you get here?"

 _How did I get here?_ John thought inwardly to the part of his brain that had studied for many hours on the ins and outs of applied physics with Deja all those years ago on Reach. He was an excellently smart man, but not so learned to be able to remotely answer the question in any kind of conclusive detail.

"I come from the planet Reach, serving the UNSC. I arrived here after battling the Ur-Didact."

It wasn't a detailed or entirely helpful answer as far as John could tell within the objective confines of his thoughts, but there was an instant shuffle amongst these new humans.

"The Ur-Didact?" The commander queried. His face a mixture of wondering, doubtful, and worried.

John didn't hesitate. He answered the question as he would any clarity seeking question from a superior. "The Ur-Didact was a Promethean warrior, commander. I am lead to believe there are two versions of him, the original being Ur, and the newer being Iso."

"WHERE," the commander said much more loudly than before, "do you come from!"

The answer was obvious to John, and yet he imagined it being unbelievable to any who were not experiencing it. He steeled himself to give yet another in a long list of hard to believe reports. "I come from a time in the distant future of the galaxy."

It felt as though even the walls reacted to his words, and absolute silence reigned. Then, against any reaction that John would have expected, a throaty chuckle rolled from the commanding officer. "There are a great many ways to easily explain something to make it more believable, and yet you chose the hardest. Does that make you a genius liar or someone supremely honest?"

It took John a moment to connect what the man was implying. He could have made up a lie of some kind that was much more simple and believable, but opted for the absolute truth that was nearly impossible to believe. John, however, did consider himself an honest man, and he never lied, but that never meant he always told the truth. Were they traits that claimed him as a good and measured man?

"I'm just Human."

"So you are, warrior."

 _Warrior?_ John questioned the title he'd just been bestowed. It seemed that concepts of honour surpassed many aspects of evolution, and the title of the warrior was akin to saying champion. Even the Ur-Didact had granted him the respect of the title.

"The Didact is a current adversary, but not my greatest foe."

"The Flood!" John hissed in disgust.

"Soldiers, lower your weapons, this man can offer us insight," The Commander ordered his troops. And with an efficiency that would have even pleased a Spartan the troops did as told and re-ordered their ranks to be around the seemingly now accepted arrival.

"My name is Forthencho, I am the Lord of Admirals, will you fight with us to defeat the parasite?"

The title suddenly struck John, and he immediately linked the face of Forthencho to some of the few times he'd been depicted in tellings of the past in Requiems terminals. But other issues and thoughts immediately came to the fore of his mind, primarily the paradox of time travel.

John was no scientist. He did not understand the workings of time. If he changed things in this time would he ever be born to come back here? Then another thought swam to his mind. He loved Humanity. He had a deep and lasting love for his kind, and on a level this version of Humanity was not his kind.

They were human but very different from what they would become. Was he in service to any Human cause? To the UNSC? To Ancient Humanity? _I am in service to the Humanity I want to see, the future of my Spartans._

The sudden thought made him question his former rank and his general lack of questions toward the admiralty. No more would he take a back seat, he would carve out the future he saw fit.

"I have a more complicated answer to your question than can be explained simply." He answered with steel to his voice, and to show his taking the Lord of Admirals as an equal, he raised his arms and pulled his helmet off his head.

Forthencho's eyes widened for a moment, and a small smile took to his lips as he nodded. "I see." He muttered as his own dark eyes set in his subtle brown skin tones met John's blazingly bright blue ones within his ghostly white skin.


	2. Chapter 2

**It's been a long time since I've updated this!**

 **Again, like the first chapter, no promises on my continuing this story. I write it purely when the creativity for it strikes, whereas I write my Halo – Mass Effect crossover on a more regular basis.**

 **This is totally unedited too. So please forgive any errors which are the result of my rushed writing.**

 **If you enjoy this, please review saying so, it will only serve to help motivate me to write more. I don't know about other writers, but more often than not, knowing someone enjoys anything I've written can help give me a supreme amount of writing motivation.**

 **If you do not enjoy this, I request only that you review so constructively without flaming. Remember, fanfiction is a hobby, not a career, it doesn't serve anyone to try and fling abuse at someone for a casual hobby.**

 **Happy reading!**

 **UNSC Calendar July 25, 2557**

 **Location: Ark Instillation 00**

"Commander, the Autumn has fully powered up and we are ready to initiate slip-space transition," the Forerunners virtual essence reported to John again.

He was no longer in his on-board cryptum, and was fully suited in his armour. The wonders of hyper advanced technology did incredible things. For a few years John had worn Ancient humanities heavy class of armour, but it lacked a certain weight that attracted him back to his old armour that had been stored amongst Forthencho's personal weaponry.

John had served with the Lord of Admirals, had advised, fought with, and even forged a friendship with the man. So upon John stating that he desired to once more wear his old and hugely less advanced armour, Forthencho opted to simply have it upgraded.

The much more perfectly constructed mechanisms and power pack in his armour made it feel lighter than it originally had, but it still had its familiar weight that put his mind at ease.

He looked to the blue pedestal to his left where the voice had come from, then looked back to the view screen. It was a strange thought that he had been in his cryptum for a little over a hundred thousand years hiding in the shadow of the lesser ark, and only recently a much younger version of himself had been here and nearly destroyed it.

The very thought connected with the ships on-board computer and his Forerunner companion contact essence brought up the log of information that he had recorded from the battle of the Ark. Immediately before the firing of the replacement Halo he had jumped the ship out of range, and then subsequently returned it to the original hiding place.

"First I want a run down on everything happening on and around the Ark." John ordered.

His-Greatest-Efforts-To-Protect pulsed the blue light on the pedestal and a long collection of visual logs and sensor information streamed across the forward view screen. "There is now a collection of Human, UNSC, research stations set up across the damaged surface of the Ark, and there has been a previous engagement between UNSC forces and the Arks monitor. It seemed as though the monitor intended to use Earth as a new resource world."

"What of Mendicant Bias?"

"He seems to still be shackled and stranded beneath the surface. No movement since Offensive locked him up." Came the fast and efficient answer.

"And our crew?" John continued to question.

"All in stasis and unaware."

"Good," John replied with a satisfied nod of his helmeted head. "I want you to take us to the light side of the Ark where any Human presence can clearly see us, and then jump to Earth."

There was no response this time, instead a subtle sensation of inertia rumbled silently through the metal deck, and the large command bridge of John's ship aptly named Autumn was flooded with light from the Arks artificial sun as they crested one of the installations arms and headed above its' centre of mass casting a large arrowhead-like shadow on the ground below.

 **XX**

 **Date: (Per UNSC Calendar calculations) 105,002 BCE**

 **Location: Outer edge of the Orion arm, joint Human-Forerunner Life-shaper research facility.**

"John One One Seven, can you again tell me of your current observations of events?"

John's right eyebrow rose at the interruption, and he very slightly shifted his unarmoured posture to look over his shoulder to the impossibly graceful Forerunner. "First-Light-Weaves-Living-Song, my observations haven't changed much in the six years since meeting you." The Spartan chanted out the Forerunners full name.

He had been informed previously that for a Forerunner of her status to openly give him her birth name was an incredible occurrence. But there had been his initial greeting with her that had likewise been almost impossible to imagine from his own original time.

Before the event that had dragged him into the past he had perceived the Ur-Didact as being the only Forerunner with a following to be a threat to Human-kind, and that the Libriarian and her own rate of Forerunners were decidedly set to protect not just man but any form of life.

He had been quickly educated in the contrary by Forthencho upon his reporting of his knowledge of the future and ideas on the past. The Human-Forerunner war was decidedly side against side. Human against Forerunner in an all out war, where the Forerunners were not aware of the Flood.

Forthencho felt a deep hatred for the Forerunners for that. John had no trouble imagining why. The Flood was something cast upon the galaxy to specifically destroy the Forerunners for the past genocide and dictatorship over the galaxy. And yet Human-kind had been the ones to suffer from the parasite, and in turn, been the ones to burn it from the galaxy.

John had even been a part of several planetary invasion forces where orbital warfare wasn't viable, and had once again fought hand to hand and gun to gun with Flood combat forms. He had fought on Human worlds, San 'Shyuum worlds, Forerunner worlds, and even what seemed to be Sangheili worlds.

The one thing that the Flood did seem to do in a perfect pattern was to direct their forces from planet to planet directly toward the centre of the Forerunner empire.

"Please, man from a different era, do not call me by my birth name in the presence of others?" The graceful Forerunner asked with the slightest of frowns. The passing by warm toned skins of Navel scientist Humans and coldly paled skinned Forerunner lifeworkers and their security appeared to have not heard, but John knew better.

Compared to his own rank, and the rank of The Librarian, they were nothing, and did their best to appear so. John had taken to the habit of calling the Librarian by her birth name openly whenever she vexed him. It was petty, it was beneath how he knew he should behave, but as he had learnt to say, he was only human.

John sighed, and turned from the window that looked across a row of slip-space portals and faced the Librarian. "I'm sorry. Humanity will lose the war against the Forerunners because of the fight with the Flood. The Flood is temporarily defeated, and the Flood will be far too much for your kind. The Precursor did not lie in anyway, and the moment you go to Path Kathona I am sure my words will be confirmed again."

She allowed a long cool sigh to flow from her lips, and she set her hands onto her hips. John was vexed by her questioning him of this again, as she had done countless time since they had become allies, but he understood why. He, she, and a few others were now trapped in a strange thought cycle of foresight, retrospect, and reality.

The history of events as told by John gave them clear retrospect of how events would unfold, and added clarity to things that had been planned with the greatest foresight, and the terrible realities of not just how things would go, but were already going.

"But you do not fear the idea of a paradox?" The Librarian smoothly asked.

This was a question that John did not find annoying, and he shrugged as he turned to look back at the slip-space portals that were now cycling down in the vacuum of space. "I don't understand, and I never will understand, the workings of time, and I am sure neither will you or your kind."

"What is it that you say?" she carefully asked for him to elaborate.

"This is how I feel about how time works, I can't pin down even one fact for how I feel on this. Time is a straight line and yet it overlaps itself and defies its own straightness-"

"-That very concept is paradoxical!" The Forerunner woman interrupted, to which John merely held up his hand.

"Yes it is." He paused, before trying his best to study the internals of the disappearing slip space portals. "But there are many things in nature that seem to be in paradox to themselves until a greater depth of understanding can be had. I am just playing with this idea."

The deceptively young looking alien woman narrowed her eyes in thought, and instantly knew that Johns point –albeit a vague one- was accurate. "You are not incorrect on that. Continue?"

"Only one moment of time can exist in this looping straight line, and that moment is right now. My presence here will likely not cause any paradoxes because my presence can't change history from where I left. I think that my travel from my time to this one has caused this," he paused and thought for the right words. "Impossible loop."

Again the Librarian narrowed her eyes as she began to understand where Johns' mind was going with his strange, yet also distantly possible theory. "Do you suggest that you do not do or cause any changes that could affect anything between now and when you left your time-"

"-But I can do things that will come into play after the point when I left." He interrupted.

The Librarian wanted to argue his point, wanted to raise all of the various theories on time, space, and the fabric of reality. But she knew they would do no good. His theory was as likely to be wrong as it was to be right, and she had to concur that there was something about it that just felt right.

He was different from every other creature she had ever encountered. He had met a future version of her, and had undergone some acceleration in his genomes. Not long before his violent and unexpected arrival into her research ship she had made the comment that the Humans gene plan would likely someday surpass their own.

This was a human who was that very idea in the flesh.

Since that time she had studied him through medical tests, and had even further enhanced his genes in ways that were not necessary, but were incredibly helpful to their establishing plan.

She flinched reactively as a large hand closed over her slender shoulder, and found herself dwarfed in the Humans looming shadow. "You will perform your duties admirably, and save billions of lives."

John knew that he didn't have to console her, and that she had already accepted the evident truth in everything he'd told her. But her mission in life was to protect as much life as possible, preferably all life, and that was not entirely dissimilar to his own mission. He could sympathize with her feeling of loss.

"What now, Commander?" she asked him with steely eyes.

"Now," he started and stepped back from her, looking at the passing humans and Forerunners who had duties to perform around the station. "You go back to your life that I interrupted and pretend I was never here. You have given me all that I need."

The smallest of frowns appeared on the woman's face, but she knew the truth in his words. If she were to be directly involved in Johns plans then his future may never come to be. History and time had to be played out in this closed loop of theirs.

"What will you do?" She asked next. John had never openly told her of his plans, just that he needed Forerunner warriors and scientists that would be loyal to build a new future. He had explained history to her, but not what his role in it may be.

"After the vessels are complete we will go into stasis and wake up in times of importance to see if there are things that may be protected."

She nodded. It seemed like a good and thoughtful –if simple- plan. She could not predict every little detail of times to come, and he could not recall events that he did not know of, so there would be a need to emerge from stasis from time to time to investigate the state of the galaxy.

The thing that was strangest about his plan, and that made her very curious about the future, were the initial requests he had placed. The research station that they were in was sprawling, essentially thirty kilometres in each direction, and it was home to Humans, Forerunners, Hurogok, and even some San Shyuum.

The presence of the San Shyuum was something that surprised her after John had departed from her company with one of her warrior servant body guards. His history, as she knew it, had John spending a majority of his life attempting to kill the species that he had at first called prophets.

But his descriptions of the prophets from his time -compared to in this time were- were entirely different. They were tall elegant creatures that possessed a beauty that appealed to Humans and Forerunners alike. And yet they were noted for being deceitful, even Forthencho had called them a race of lying worms.

But Humanities alliance with them was an alliance out of need, and the two species worked well with each other.

"You have your ark, and I have mine." John explained, reaching for his helmet on a pedestal nearby.

"I would not exactly call this an ark." She looked at the approaching reflection of the fore-mentioned Human military commander in the glass before the couple.

"I would call it an assurance for the galaxy." Forthencho stated as he halted at Johns' side.

"Assurance?" The Librarian asked around Johns' armoured form.

"The Precursors created the Forerunners and Humanity, but they chose my people as the ones to carry on the Mantle. As the Commander here has stated from having spoken with the Primordial, it seemed as though they wanted Humanity and the Forerunners to work together in protecting this galaxy." Forthencho explained.

The Librarian narrowed her eyes in question, and internally screamed at herself for being unable to bring herself to speak with the Primordial that Forthencho and John had spoken with after herself having seen how shaken the Didact was from his own brief encounter.

"He means, and I mean, that we should save the galaxy as it was intended by the Precursors to be saved. Not by the remnants of Forerunner corruption," John stated coldly.

The Librarian nodded and internalized her sigh. John, as she had learnt, spoke even more plainly than the Didact. But a massive difference between the two, despite their common standing as warriors, was that the Didact had been a commander who had to play politics for thousands of years.

John was never subject to politics, and according to him had almost always followed orders up until just before his departure from his time. But his to the point approach was strangely reassuring. It spoke of a resolution to anything troubling.

"Something that the Ur-Didact said to me, that seems to suit what you must endure now. Embrace your sad fate."

Johns word struck cold and hard in the Librarians heart. She had no choice but to embrace her fate, and he had illustrated with an array of words that it would indeed be sad. Sad was an understatement in the Librarians mind for the years to come.

She turned to face John, and gently placed an elegant hand on his chest piece, "It has been the honour of my life to be your ally. Until I meet a younger you, good luck."

John met her gaze through his reflective visor, and knew that they would likely never meet again. But, was likewise glad that he could have worked with the woman toward a goal to protect life.

Next she stepped past John and squared her shoulders at Forthencho. "If only there had never been a war, we might have been allies, friends." She paused and studied the aging Lord of Admirals dark eyes. "Your people would have made better bearers of the Mantle."

"Librarian," the man acknowledged. "If my liking for you could match my respect for you then we could have done incredible things together."

His words struck a small upward tilt of the lips from the Forerunner woman. It was as close as the prideful man would ever come to kindness, but she appreciated his honourably intended words.

Once more she looked to John, gave him a momentary steely look, and then turned, walking from the observation deck in the direction of the docking bay.

"You needn't say anything to me, Spartan. All the words you gave the Forerunner are enough to match my own journey. I leave you knowing that the future of Humanity is in good hands."

And in a way that was entirely lacking the grace of the Forerunner woman, Forthencho turned and marched in a different direction to the Librarian. If John were a normal man he probably would have found the deductive thought amusing that Forthencho's own personal command vessel was docked next to the Librarians, and that he needed to go to the same place, but he had clearly chosen to taken a long route there to avoid seeing the Forerunner woman again.

Merely proof of his lingering anger at the predecessor race of Humankind.

Perhaps his words had been exactly accurate, and despite the massive amounts of respect for Forerunner power and intellect he had, he had far more hatred for their burning his worlds as payment for him saving them from the Flood.

And again, but for the first time in roughly six years, John was alone to his thoughts. He had no doubts as he saw four portals open in space and four ships arriving. Neither of them appeared typically Forerunner or Human, but like a perfect blend of both. Angular sweeping curved hulls that looked as though they sliced cleanly through space.

He wasn't existing in a world where he was reactive any more, now he had weight to move into the future with purpose. The brief thought of what the long sleep through time would feel like. Would it be like blinking and suddenly being in a different time? He doubted that thought.

This wasn't like going into cryo-sleep for the sole purpose of survival. This was preparation, and a journey unto itself.

"Commander?"

The voice turned John back around to face into the room. He was greeted with two of his soldiers. Both so similar, yet with entirely different origins. It was one of his rules that all units would operate equally with Humans and Forerunners.

"What is it?" He asked the two.

The un-helmeted Human took a small step forward and looked John in the eye. "As you have requested, we are here to inform you that all of the preparations that you, the Lord of Admirals, and the Librarian requested have been completed. We are ready for our great journey."

 **XX Date: (Per UNSC Calendar calculations) 852 BCE**

 **Location: Urs orbit, Urs trinity star system. (Sangheili home system)**

"Report!" John barked to his mixed bridge crew.

"Slip space transition successful, Commander. Local forces cannot detect us from the background radiation of the stellar object Urs." The Human crewman nearest Johns command chair quickly informed.

"I want you to burn a path for that single vessel departing from the southern region of the planet, and prepare to intercept them just before they reach slip space distance." The Spartan ordered roughly as the vessel he was trying to specify was lit up on a holographic display table.

To Johns' immediate right, a grey skinned Forerunner male and his fellow weapons officer, a pearly eyed San'Shyuum allotted several targets belonging to the remnants of the San'Shyuum people. In quick succession, several glances of searing bright blue light shot off into the unperceivable darkness of space, clearly intended for the targeted ships that were like-wise visually unperceivable.

"The four San'Shyuum assault craft have been destroyed, Commander."

John nodded to the report. In the back of his mind he intended to call all of his resident ancient San'Shyuum to a council to ensure that they were at peace with this course of action.

"All engines engaged at full, intercept with Sangheili vessel in ten minutes." The distinctly Human voice of the navigation officer informed.

"Comms, prepare a video and auditory feed communications as soon as we're within secure channel distance."

A light flashed green on the display screen at Johns' left, showing the immediacy of his Comm officers' efficiency.

John glanced up from his display monitor mounted on his command chairs arm to the forward view screen, trying to organically track their trajectory in relation to the position of Sanghelios. His eyes were met with zero luck, and he looked back to his monitor, seeing their intercept target highlighted several thousand kilometres away.

It was a carrier class vessel, and was clearly able to hold up to five hundred. A meagre few to escape from the looming threat of the Covenant that was soon to be fully established. It was a strange thought in Johns mind at first. In his time, the Covenant had been a long established galactic power, and yet here it was in its' infancy with hardly the strength to suppress those who sought to betray it.

"Commander, maximum comm distance reached."

John once again looked to his monitor, and this time raised it up to head height so he could address it without any posture that could possibly suggest any political position. In quick order he tapped the communications command key on the screen, and he switched to Forerunner tongue. "Why do you flee your cradle, children of Sangheilios?"

He spoke as a Forerunner would speak, the need for illusion lead him for the time being.

On his monitor was the awed and surprised face of a Sangheili shipmaster. His mandibles hung slightly slack and his reptilian eyes were noticeably wide. John knew well from the reaction that his own totally armoured visage and glowing golden visor in addition to his Forerunner speech was coming through into the Sangheili bridge.

He heard an echo from the recipient vessel, clearly a mechanical translation of his words into the aliens tongue.

"My lord! Are you what I think you to be?"

The Sangheili words were instantly translated inside Johns helmet, and in turn he responded. "In some ways I may be, in others I may not be. But why are you fleeing?"

John didn't need to ask why they were fleeing. He knew well enough from the information that they'd scoured off unencrypted channels. The Sangheili and San'Shyuum had met with bloody conflict over different takes to worshipping the Forerunners. The San'Shyuum had won, and the two species had formed the Covenant.

This Sangheili, Ussa Xelias, as John understood him to be, was not accepting of this new alliance. As far as John could tell, Ussa didn't believe the Forerunners to be gods at all.

But even then, to be met face to face in a time of need by something that spoke Forerunner and used advanced technology. His thoughts on his former gods must've been in turmoil.

"Our world has turned against us, my Lord. We are seeking refuge in one of your shield worlds."

Again John thought on his words. It was entirely possible; the Forerunners had built hundreds of shield instillations all across the galaxy.

"We can offer you refuge, and one day bring you back to your world."

"Commander!"

The voice drew Johns eyes up to the view screen to see the carrier looming ahead. If anything it looked like the front half of a ccs-class battlecruiser, albeit a slightly chunkier one.

"Will she fit in our hanger?"

"Yes sir, coming about now to draw her in."

"Ussa Xelias, there is much I wish to discuss with you. And I would have preferred to meet you in different circumstances to be able to give you a choice to come with us, but I need you for my mission."

"My people would be pleased to join your mission."

Aboard the Sangheili vessel all of the occupants had wide eyes as the gravity shifted to match the internal gravity of the massive ship sucking them in. The carrier vessel appeared like a bee flying into the hive next to the sprawling starship that could house tens of thousands.

"Clear all San'Shyuum from the hanger, only Human and Forerunner presence is allowed. I will direct this personally."


End file.
